Foggy Nightmares
by emrys-knight
Summary: Matt is sick and hurt and Foggy and Claire have to take care of him. He has a nightmare which leads to some emotional bonding. (might do a second chapter) Special thank you to @darkdollyumi (on Tumblr) for the prompt!


Matt barreled down the stairs, hands running down the walls and cheap railing. He nearly fell a few times, tripping over his own feet or missing a step or two. His legs protested the speeds he was reaching, but he didn't care. An old woman yelled at him as he went, profanities spilling from her mouth like a river of distaste for him and his frantic activities. Sure, she knew he was blind, but, it was still frustrating. Plus, what's a blind person doing running down the stairs that fast? His cane ricochet, the sound echoing throughout the apartment complex.

He burst through the double doors at the bottom floor of his apartment, running as fast as he possibly could to where the sound had come from. His hyperventilation never slowed as he ran towards that alleyway.

He taps his cane across the concrete, finding his path. He slows to turn into the alleyway when two police officers stop him.

The officer on the right sticks a hand out to prevent Matt's entrance into the scene. "Oh, oh, hang on there, son." He brings his hand a little bit further up Matt's arm. "What's the hurry?"

Matt's unfocused eyes stare off towards the scene, only by coincidence. The officers don't see it, yet. His voice came panicked, a little too loud, "I-I think that's my dad."

The officer to the left's gears turned, realizing the gravity of the situation even more, now. "Jesus, Ray, the kid's blind." 'Ray' looks up to the other officer, the knowledge gained evident on his face. Matt, frustrated with their silence, seizes his opportunity to get into the scene. He darts between the two, going into the alley.

"Hey, wait!" Officer Ray calls out to the kid. Matt ignores him altogether, mind focused on his priorities. The rushes down the alley, not bothering to use his cane, mind flooding with emotions. He internally begs for it to be someone else. He begs for his father to come rushing up to the officers, telling them to get his nosy, crazy kid from that dead body. He wanted to hear Jack beg for them to understand 'The kid's blind, he can't see he's not supposed to be in there. But those scenarios never come and those words are never spoken.

Matt comes to a screeching halt, pausing before dropping his cane to the ground. He stumbles to kneel next to the poor soul's body. He brings his hands to the corpse, hoping to God it wasn't Jack Murdock. "Dad?" His voice shakes. His tears freely flow as he runs his fingers over the body's bloodied face and hair. He feels the dead man's features, finally knowing, for sure, who it was. He called out to Jack, no reply gained from it. "Daddy!"

The police officers come slowly behind Matt, hoping to keep from upsetting the emotional, blind, child who had just been orphaned. His voice shook as it was strained in those screams full of emotion. "Daddy!" No response. "Daddy!" No response. The cops come in closer. "Daddy!"

:::::::

Matt shot up in his bed, violently wiping his hands on the sheets, grabbing onto them with the tightest grip he could manage. His lungs strained with hyperventilation, tears forming in his eyes. He cried out from the pain radiating from his leg. His delirium kept him from acknowledging it, fully. He kept on, pushing his hands against the silk sheets on the large mattress. He relished the feeling of the millions of fibers in the fabric, hoping to rid the extremities of the remembered feeling of his father's lifeless face. He coughed as he went, sniffling away, holding back a sneeze.

He didn't even hear it, the footsteps. They hurried into the room, grabbing Matt's shoulders. The pressure was gentle, yet tough enough to imply that he needed to calm down. The distorted voice come to his ears. Foggy? Claire? Karen?

...Fisk? For the love of all that is good and holy, please don't be Fisk.

He tilted his head, slightly, smelling the person sitting in front of him with the, now, kung-fu-death-grip on his shoulders. His breathing slowed and his heart rate came down. "Foggy?" His voice shook ever so slightly as his breathing was still a little uneven and panicked.

"It's me, Matt," Foggy let go, watching as Matt's hands no longer frantically rubbed against the silk, instead, slowly moving in circles on the material. "What happened?"

"Nightmare. It happens. W-what's wrong with my leg?" He grabbed at the injured extremity, feeling the bandages wrapped around it. "You or Claire?"

"Claire," She answered for Foggy, walking in the room to check on the possibly torn bandages.

"What happened to my leg?" He tilted his head, trying to hear inside the wound, attempting to get a feel for what it could have been.

"You fell down your stairs," Foggy got off of the bed, allowing Claire to sit where he had. He stayed close, crossing his arms and watching as she moved through the room to his best friend. If it were anyone else, he'd have jumped in to protect Matt, but he knew he didn't need it. Not with her.

"This time, it wasn't the devil that bit you in the ass." Claire laughed. She checked the bandage, happy with her findings when she saw there was a lot less bruising underneath than there was the night before.

"How bad is it?" Foggy stepped a little closer when Matt started to sit up, moving slower so Claire had time to get up.

"It's not so bad. His leg is gonna be irritated for a little while until he starts to heal. With a few meds and some meditation, he should be fine towards the end of the week. He's lucky he didn't break anything." She stared him down, knowing he could feel it.

"What about his breathing?"

Matt coughed. "W-what about my breathing?"

"It was uneven, even when you were asleep."

"I was having a nightmare. Those can do that, sometimes."

"Recurring or new?" Foggy crossed his arms, adjusting his stance as he watched Matt fully sit up, gently bringing his legs so he could sit on the edge of the bed.

"Recurring."

"Dad or Fiction?"

"Dad."

"Oh, man, I'm sorry." Foggy sat on the edge of the bed, beside Matt. "Sorry, man."

"Yeah, it-it's fine." He heard Claire's heartbeat pick up, slightly, and her breathing pattern change. "What?"

"Can you two explain what Dad and Fiction mean?"

"I have these nightmares that happen every now and then. They-They're the same ones. One, we call 'Dad'. It's from the night when my dad was killed. The one we call 'Fiction' is where everyone I love dies because I couldn't save them."

Foggy nodded. "Yeah."

"Shit." Claire crossed her arms, staring at the floor. Sometimes she forgot that Matt had had other traumas besides things he'd experienced as Daredevil. Though, she also forgot how much it would hurt him if he couldn't be the devil of Hell's Kitchen. She never thought that maybe he needed to be in that suit, because it would mess him up if he wasn't. If something were to happen to her, Karen or Foggy because he wasn't in that suit, he'd blame himself. Typical of him, right? Constantly taking the blame for things that he couldn't control, shouldering things that shouldn't have been his burdens to bear in the first place.

"I've had the first one ever since that night, Claire, I'm used to it. And Fiction, I've had since the night you found me in that dumpster. I'm used to them. Every now and then I get new ones but it's fine, Claire, I promise. It's nothing I can't handle."

"Sure, it isn't." She sighed, frustrated with his lack of concern with his pained dreams. His casual attitude towards his injuries. She guessed it was like he said. "Last part's Catholicism." That damn cheeky smile he gave her when he'd said that. She had no idea, at that time, but it was such a typical Matt thing to do, typical Daredevil thing to do.

:::::::

Matt was curled up on the couch, his back buried in the back cushions of the piece. He had on his gray sweatshirt, nothing underneath, with those blue sweatpants tucked into his fluffy gray socks, just like he'd had it when Foggy had found out about his nightly activities.

Matt laughed, thinking about it. Oh how he was grateful enough time had passed that he could laugh. He thanked the Heavens Foggy had had enough experience as Matthew Murdock-slash-Daredevil's best friend, allowing the two to laugh about that night.

"What's so funny?" Foggy brought a glass of water and a sandwich over to the livingroom and set it on the coffee table. He sat in the seat opposite from where Matt was.

"I don't know why you were so mad, at first."

"Cus I thought you were out with women, I was proud! Turns out you were getting your ass kicked every night. I was disappointed, man. I was looking for some of that action to trickle down to me. Now, I really don't wanna get any of that action."

Matt laughed. "Fair enough." He uncurled a little bit. "Where's Claire?" He couldn't smell or hear her. He couldn't feel her presence, anymore.

"She left when you fell asleep, again." Foggy pointed to the sandwich. "Eat. Drink. Claire said you're sick. She said if you don't eat or drink, you're not gonna heal very fast, no matter how much you meditate, whatever the Hell that means."

Matt scoffed at his friend, slowly reaching for the food he was provided. He winced at the pain rummaging through his nerves. He felt around for a minute, smiling at how stupid it was.

"What?"

"I was pretending I didn't know where the sandwich was, for a second. Guess I've still got habits."

Foggy huffed through his nose, a minimalistic laughter. "Guess y' do."

Matt took the food and drink in hands, practically inhaling them, just realizing how hungry and thirsty he truly was. He remembered how long it had been since he'd consumed anything but blood from a split lip.

"You need anything else? I'm trying to be a better partner, since I spent too much time being angry at you for all this."

"Oh so you're Daredevil's partner, now?" Matt scoffed, a sarcastic laugh.

"Hell yeah, I am. I'm definitely not his sidekick!"

Matt thought on it for a moment, realizing what a great idea it was. "Okay." He set the empty glass down. "Daredevil has a partner in anti-crime."

"Guess he does." Foggy laughed.

Matt knew he couldn't have anyone else by his side that he trusted more than Foggy. The best avocado-at-law he knew.


End file.
